We all try to be good. Or we want to be good, but fail, which leads to the inevitable self-flagellation.

So, how liberating is it to be in a space where stuffing up, getting things wrong, trying new approaches without fear of failure, is actually a good thing. Not just a good thing, but something without which you cannot proceed.

Writing is just this kind of free-form activity, where you need to take chances in order to find gold, or something remotely interesting at the very least.

Years ago, when I wrote, I always had a fence in my head. Lots of places I couldn’t go, and restrictions about what my writing had to be like, or the subject it had to frame with absolutely no straying allowed. But the result was that my writing was as corseted in its reading as it felt in its conceptualisation. Because I was afraid to put a foot wrong, I was also stuck in a safe little box that had a limited view, and within which I was virtually paralysed, or at the very least, stifled.

Some things have changed. Firstly, I have an increased level of flexibility about writing. I give myself word deadlines so that I keep producing, but I worry less about the quality. I have been writing badly for so long now that I have developed faith in the ability of bad writing to be improved. I know there is a dismal phase at the beginning of most projects, when nothing seems to be working, or to be any good. It all seems worthless. This is the stage where the inner critic sits on my shoulder and tries to peck my eyes out. And many times, I manage to strangle the inner critic and keep writing. Sometimes the bad writing turns into something that’s not so bad. Anywhere from mediocre to good, which is an improvement on where it started.

Writing is an act of faith. We have an idea, and try to portray it in the most faithful, authentic and powerful way. We don’t always get there. But if we give up, that will be the end of our ideas portrayed in writing, and that would be a bad thing for those of us who like to write. And so you inch forward, sometimes limping, on the hope that the road will be smoother.

So now I write on trust. And for the pleasure of it. I worry less about what others will think. I write to please myself. Because the world is full of critics all too eager to spout bad news, and if nobody’s life depends on my writing, then it’s just fine if I do whatever the hell I want with it.